


Merry Christmas, Magnolia Martinsson

by missdibley



Series: Martinsson & Daughter [3]
Category: Magnus Martinsson - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Wallander (UK TV), Wallander - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, St. Lucy's Day, st. lucia's day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnolia Martinsson brings her father Magnus and her grandfather Anders to school for a special holiday assembly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Magnolia Martinsson

**Author's Note:**

> All English language text that appears in italics indicate where the characters are speaking Swedish.

“Come on!”

Maggy stood in the living room of an old house on the near Northwest side of Chicago. It was a snowy morning in December. Dressed for school, she hopped from one foot to the other. Her snow boots made a satisfying sound on the hardwood floors. She was impatient, and not very good at concealing it.

“Yes! We’re coming along! And don’t yell, darling.” Magnus, already in his boots and buttoning up his coat, jerked his thumb at his father, who was finishing his coffee. “Just waiting for _farfar_.”

“Bah! I will be there.” Anders Martinsson did not like to waste time, but neither did he like to be hurried. He got up from the dining table, where his wife Karin and daughter-in-law Halla sat lingering over their breakfast. “10:45 at the school. You’ll remember?”

“Yes,” said Halla sweetly. “We’ll have the car so we can drive to [La Creperie](http://www.lacreperiechicago.com/) for lunch afterwards.”

“Mama?” Maggy rushed to her mother and looked at her pleadingly. “You’ll be on time?”

“Yes, we will.” Halla nodded at Karin. “We might even be early.”

“Yes, _duva_.” Karin smiled warmly at Maggy, who grinned at her grandmother before skipping over and hugging her. “Such a big girl, my Maggy.”

“You’re still taller than me, Nanny.”

“But not for much longer, I’m sure.” Karin kissed the top of Maggy’s head. “Now go. You know what a slow walker _farfar_ is.”

“Karin!” Anders said indignantly. He made a show of crossing the living room quickly to the foyer, where he found his parka hanging on an iron hook by the front door. “I am not slow. I could run to this school if I wanted to.”

“Really?” Maggy looked at her grandfather in wonderment. “Can we?”

“Erm… perhaps another time.” Anders looked out the window at the snow. “When we’ve been fitted for snowshoes.”

* * *

Magnolia Bettina Martinsson was five years old, and in kindergarten at The Barlow School. Maggy’s school was located in an old greystone near the Lincoln Park Zoo, twenty minutes away by bus. She could have gone to the neighborhood school, which was two blocks away, but there were 30 children in each room there. There were only 10 girls in each room at Barlow, which was private, and offered scholarships to bright little girls like Maggy.

Halla liked Barlow because it reminded her of her own school back in New York City where she had grown up. Magnus liked it because it was single sex and because its graduates went on to matriculate at elite universities. They could have managed the tuition if they’d sold their house and given up on the hope of having another child. The scholarship meant they wouldn’t have to do either.

 _“You know, if you had stayed in Sweden, Maggy would still get a top-notch education for free.”_ Anders said in Swedish, trying to sound casual.

 _“I know, Pa.”_ Magnus sighed as he followed Maggy onto the Armitage Avenue bus, shooting a look at his father before they found seats at the back.

 _“And there are quite a few, ah, Asian families. Maggy and Halla wouldn’t be the only ones.”_ Anders eyes softened when he looked at his granddaughter, who carefully held a small lump of melting snow in her mittened hands.

 _“I know that too, Pa.”_ Magnus shook his head. _“But this is home. Not just for them, but for me. For all of us.”_

_“Fine, but I won’t give up on getting you to move back. What about a cottage? There are some nice ones near our place in Tjörn. You could stay for longer in summer, if you have more room.”_

_“I remember. You made me drive around looking at houses with you in June while everybody else was having fun!”_

_“If by having fun you mean your cousins and your uncles making asses of themselves after too much beer and aquavit, then I don’t regret it.”_ Anders rolled his eyes. _“But I am serious. Let’s talk to Mama about this tonight, and Halla.”_

_“If I agree to a cottage, would you feel better about us living here?”_

_“Almost, son.”_

_“Almost?”_ Magnus looked at his father incredulously. _“What else do you want?”_

 _“Another grandchild!”_ Anders looked down at Maggy. “Maggy? Wouldn’t you like a little brother or a little sister?”

Maggy looked up at her grandfather, her dark brown eyes serious. “I guess, but I think I’d like a puppy instead.”

* * *

Magnus and Anders produced ID for the security staff at school, and were issued visitor badges for the day. They were the tallest father and grandfather of the fathers and grandfathers who had shown up at school that morning. It was the last day before Christmas break, which meant there would be a special holiday assembly.

“We’re singing?” Anders looked askance at the sheet of lyrics handed to him by Miss Honey, Maggy’s teacher.

“Oh yes, Mr. Martinsson.” The young teacher nodded. “It’s Barlow tradition. You’ll all spend time with the girls in the classroom, where we will show you what we’ve been working on. But at 9:45, you will join Dr. Ilivicky the music teacher for rehearsal in the assembly hall.”

Before Anders could ask another question, Maggy grabbed his hand. “Come here!” She looked up bashfully at Miss Honey. “Sorry, Miss Honey, but I’d like him to meet Amelia.”

Miss Honey grinned. “Of course, dear. Just a few minutes, though, and then we’ll start.”

Maggy nodded, then pulled her grandfather to the far corner of the room. There, on a small rectangular table, sat a cage. And in that cage was one guinea pig the color of toffee.

“There! That’s Amelia!” Maggy looked up. “She’s my friend.”

“Oh. I see.”

Anders stooped down, all the way to the floor, and inspected the squeaking creature.

“Hello, Amelia,” he said gravely before wiggling his nose.

“She doesn’t speak English,” Maggy said in a whisper. “You’ll have to speak to her in guinea pig Latin.”

Before he could begin to wonder what guinea pig Latin sounded like, Anders felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Magnus looking at him in amusement.

“Pa, we’re starting. Maggy, want to show us to our seats?”

“Okay!” Maggy grabbed both their hands, then walked them closer to the front of the room, where the other girls were beginning to settle down on the large Oriental rug. Other fathers and grandfathers did their best not to fall out of the little wooden chairs usually occupied by their children. Magnus sat on the floor, giving his chair up to Anders.

The girls each took a turn, sharing a piece of art they had made, or talking about their favorite part of school. Fathers would get teary eyed while fumbling for their phones to snap a quick picture. Magnus was no different when Maggy popped up, wiping a tear from his eye when she described the class trip to the petting zoo. They all laughed when she began to list, and then make, her favorite animal sounds. When Anders caught her eye, he smiled and waved. Maggy waved back, then sat back down so they could continue with the morning’s lessons.

* * *

By the time the Lower School holiday assembly began, Anders and Magnus were ready. The men had practiced their two songs at least three times, a few of them attempting to harmonize though Dr. Ilivicky insisted they didn’t have to. They were all relieved when the little girls came in to take their seats, followed by friends and family members who made up their audience.

The assembly began as it always did, with a short (if serious) speech from the school’s headmistress. The Middle School Handbell Choir only made two obvious mistakes in their rendition of “Carol of The Bells”, and everybody cheered when girls from the senior class came through with doughnuts for everybody.

Dr. Ilivicky, a short, round woman with an unruly salt-and-pepper bob, set up a music stand on the stage. Lifting her arms, she commanded the girls to stand at their seats.

They started with “Jingle Bells”. The hall rang with laughter when, as directed by the drama teacher Señor Atlas, some of the men in the middle of the group pretended to shake and move as though they were riding in a sleigh. The rest of them threw white confetti in the air, as though it were snowing.

“The Dreidel Song” had everybody spinning in their seats, pretending to be dreidels themselves. Dr. Ilivicky tried to keep order as they sang but after a while she just laughed along between verses. When the song was over, she swept her arms down in front of her, and everybody sat.

“Now, I understand one of our kindergarteners has grandparents visiting all the way from Sweden,” Dr. Ilivicky said kindly.

When she said this, Anders’s snowy white eyebrows shot up. He looked at his son, who shrugged. Magnus found his mother in the audience, shaking his head when he saw that she was already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Halla avoided his gaze, and tried to look innocent. He mock scowled, then searched for Maggy among her classmates. Her chair, however, was empty.

“She was so excited, so excited, about their visit that she begged her teacher, Miss Honey, and me, to teach her and the rest of the lower school something they could sing for her grandparents, and for all of you.”

When Dr. Ilivicky nodded, the lights were dimmed, and the double doors from the corridor were opened. Through the door came two lines of girls, each wearing a long white dress over her uniform. On their heads were wreaths made from green construction paper, topped with white candles also made from construction paper. The older girls who led the line showed the younger ones, which included Maggy, where to stand in front of the men’s chorus.

Dr. Ilivicky waved her hands up again, and the rest of the lower school got up. They each held a small flashlight in their clasped hands.

 _Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva._  
_Kring jord som sol’n förgät, skuggorna ruva._  
_Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus,_  
_Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia._

The girls sang this verse twice, swaying gently from side to side. While the crowd hummed along, Anders and Magnus sang, as did Karin and Halla in their seats. When the lights came up, everybody cheered and the assembly was over.

Maggy knew to stay where she was, waiting for her father and grandfather, then her mother and grandmother, to find her in the swirl of people wishing each other a happy holiday. Anders narrowly beat Magnus to sweeping Maggy into his arms and hugging her so tightly she just about lost her breath. He let her go only so Karin could embrace her, then Halla, and then finally Magnus.

 _“God jul, Papa!”_ Maggy kissed Magnus’s cheek. She looked around, beaming. _“God jul, Farfar! God jul, Farmor!”_

 _“God jul, Maggy.”_ Anders brushed her round cheek with his fingers. _“Jag älskar dig min kära.”_

 _“Jag älskar dig!”_ Maggy squirmed out of Magnus’s, taking a spot between her father and her grandfather. She looked up. “Can we go eat now?”

Halla wiped her eyes. “Of course. But we should get a picture first…”

She turned, finding Miss Honey behind her. Before she could ask, the teacher smiled and held her hand out.

“Okay, how many pictures am I taking? And,” she said with a laugh, “how many phones?”


End file.
